


"The Wreckoning"

by Spnsami331



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alastair mentioned, Azazel mentioned - Freeform, Bees, Crowlet, Crowley Mentioned - Freeform, Demonic Possession, Destiel - Freeform, Fire, Knives, Lucifer mentioned - Freeform, Meg mentioned - Freeform, Needles, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Ruby mentioned - Freeform, Scared Dean Winchester, Snakes, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24624454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spnsami331/pseuds/Spnsami331
Summary: Dean's latest one night stand is someone very important from his past, someone he should never have forgotten. Someone who ships Destiel.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading my works!
> 
> I've been working on this one for a couple of months. It's not quite done but I'm working hard on it and I'm very proud of it! 
> 
> The title is taken from the song "The Wreckoning" by Taryn and Kellen Manning. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!!

"Perfect!"  
With a smirk, Erin examined herself in the mirror. The little black dress she'd chosen clung to her body, falling down well north of her knees. Black leather boots with high heels climbed up her calves. She shook her silky blonde hair, amazed by it. Fancy name brand eyeliner and mascara made her ocean blue eyes pop. The fire engine red lipstick may have been a bit much, but she took a chance on it anyway.  
Tonight was the night. Of that, she had no doubt. As a finishing touch, she draped a chain from her neck that drew extra attention to her chest. In all of her existence, she'd never felt so desirable, so powerful.  
Tonight, all of this would work to her advantage, her new found confidence and sex appeal. She could not wait to get started. Time seemed to be standing still.  
Just as she had expected, the black '67 Impala was parked right outside the bar. Erin paid the cab driver and exited the vehicle. The excitement of it all made her downright silly, and she took deep breaths to calm herself. The butterflies remained in her stomach, but a pina colada would fix that right up.  
When she got inside, Erin took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink. As the bartender poured, she scoured the area, searching for her target. Sure enough, she found him. A smirk spread across her pretty little face.  
Dean Winchester leaned over the pool table, striking the white cue ball with his stick. He looked just the same as she'd remembered, handsome as God ever made them. Those beautiful green eyes like jades, the dimpled smile, the spiky brown locks: she would never forget the face of Dean Winchester.  
Sipping on her colada, Erin watched with interest as Dean Winchester played pool 🎱 with a burly biker dude with a long black beard. He was quite good, knocking most of his balls out in one turn. The biker dude didn't stand much of a chance. A few more minutes, and down went the eight ball 🎱. Swearing, the biker handed Dean a wad of money and stormed away like a spoiled child.  
Showtime!  
With dramatic shakes of her tiny hips when she walked, Erin approached Dean Winchester. Swallowing her truest emotions, she pasted on a charming smile. He returned her smile with a bashful one of his own.  
"Good game, Stud," Erin stated, reaching for another stick.  
"Thank you," Dean whispered.  
"What do you say we make things interesting?" Erin suggested, racking the balls back up. Dean listened, seemingly fascinated by her. "If you win, the next round is on me."  
Dean nodded. "Okay, and if you happen to win?" Erin just grinned and broke.  
With each shot that she took, Erin bent her entire body over the table. Her breasts bulged against the velvet, almost bursting out of her dress. She licked her lips when she aimed. Of course, she always checked to make sure that Dean was watching, and he always was.  
Dean Winchester was a professional pool hustler, and everyone in Kansas knew it. So, Erin had been practicing every chance she got in order to impress him. All of her hard work paid off when she smacked the eight ball 🎱 right into the corner pocket.  
At first, Dean Winchester frowned his pouty lips. But that only lasted a moment. Then, he offered her a hand to shake in congratulations.  
"Not bad," Dean said.  
"Same to you, Stud."  
"Stud works, but they call me Dean," Dean Winchester told her. As if she did not know.  
"They call me Erin."  
"Well, Erin, I think it's time I pay up. What do you have in mind?"  
Erin grinned.  
An hour later, Erin and Dean Winchester sat at the bar, downing yet another shot of whiskey. Even though her tolerance for alcohol had grown, she was getting a little tipsy. If she didn't slow down, things could spin out of control way too fast. She could not let that happen.  
Erin mentioned how she'd kill for a double cheeseburger with curly fries. Then, off they were, to the diner up the street. Dean ordered them greasy and delicious burgers and fries. The only downside was that Erin's new teenie stomach filled up long before she'd satisfied her old appetite.  
Over dinner, they engaged in a deep conversation that droned everything else out around them. Almost against her stubborn will, Erin found herself enjoying their discussion. They talked about their shared taste for classic rock, their mutual disdain for veganism and their preference for road trips over flights.  
In different circumstances, this would have been the best first date in Erin's life. She was having fun. Dean Winchester seemed to like her. His wry sense of humor matched hers, and he made her laugh with his tales of drunken fights and jail breaks. It was a shame indeed.  
Before Erin could register how much time had passed, the diner manager announced that they were closing up shop. For a second, Erin cursed them for spoiling her good time. But then she reminded herself that the best was yet to come.  
As they strolled out of the restaurant, brushing against each other's arms with each step, Erin sighed, "I guess I'd better call a cab."  
Dean pointed to the Impala. "I'll give you a ride home." Erin's face lit up.  
Like a true gentleman, Dean opened the Impala's door for her. "Your car is amazing! 1967 Chevy with 600 horsepower, 454 block engine?"  
Dean's eyes widened in amazement. All chicks loved his Baby. How could they not? It was a beautiful classic. But none of them actually knew anything about it.  
"You're into cars?" Dean asked as he buckled his seat belt.  
"My daddy is a mechanic on specialty muscle cars," Erin replied with pride. "I learned a thing or two from him."  
"Awesome!"  
The Impala purred to life. Erin gave Dean directions to her house, and he took off. Supertramp played on the radio, and Erin couldn't help but bob her head along with the music.  
Dean parked the Impala in the driveway in front of Erin's house. It was a quaint little stone cottage with baby blue shutters and a baby blue door. White and pink pansies lined a red brick pathway. Erin thought with delight that the cottage belonged in a Thomas Kincaid painting. This was never truer than Christmastime, when snow blanketed the yard and Christmas lights dangled from the gutters.  
The interior of Erin's home was just as picturesque as the outside. She had shiny hardwood floors, robin's egg blue walls and lots of elegant windows with enough room on the sills to sit and look out at the world. The house seemed so grown up and idyllic that Dean felt like he didn't quite belong there.  
The living room, however, was a paradise for Dean. A huge couch equipped with recliners and cup holders circled around a sixty inch flat screen TV. Attached to the TV was a video game console and blu-ray player. Against another wall, she had a record player and an incredible collection of dozens of classic vinyl albums and hundreds of CDs.  
"Make yourself at home." Erin gestured to the couch. "Can I get you some coffee?"  
"Yeah! Thanks!"  
On her way to the kitchen, Erin dropped the needle on the record. The edgy sounds of the Beatles masterpiece Revolver filled the room. Dean was bopping his head to Erin's favorite album, and that was a great sign.  
A few minutes later, Erin reappeared. She set down a mug of coffee and a plate of strawberry pie in front of Dean. Dean could not contain his grateful grin as she covered the pie in whipped cream. Together, they indulged and giggled, enjoying the giddiness of their newfound attraction.


	2. "Good Day Sunshine" 🌞

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should have said this in chapter one lol... I don't own Supernatural 
> 
> The chapter title comes from a song on the Beatles Revolver album, which Dean and Erin were listening to in chapter one. 💖
> 
> I hope you like it!! 😻

When Dean opened his eyes, panic rushed over him. His wrists and ankles struggled against the ropes, but he could not break free. Since he was wearing pajama pants, he had no access to his cell phone or any tools that could help him escape. The bare skin of his muscular chest was freezing in the cold early morning air. 

Dean searched his mind for any recollection of where he was or how he got there, but he could remember nothing. The last thing he could recall was finishing up the slice of pie with Erin. Then she'd led him back to her bedroom for a little fun…

And had it ever been fun! She'd emerged from her bathroom wearing black, silky lingerie with hot pink bows and the Catwoman boots she'd worn to the bar. Dean reminisced about how Erin had moved and moaned with such passion, how she would whine softly when his lips parted from hers, how he'd yearned for her in ways he'd never wanted any of his other hook ups. Their night together had been more than just a one night stand. Even though they'd just met, when they made love, Dean felt as if he was reconnecting with someone very important from his past. 

Erin? What had happened to her? Every time Dean cared for someone, his life stole that person from him. His heart pounded with worry at the thousands of possible things that could have happened to her, each option more horrifying than the one preceding it. Demons could have taken her. Pissed off hunters could have had her. Chuck could have turned her to a pillar of salt for the hell of it. 

As embarrassing as it was, and since he had no other options, Dean closed his eyes and whispered, "Cas, I need you, Buddy. Something's got me tied up, and it took my friend. I don't know where she is. I need your help…"

Before he could finish his prayer, he heard squeaking like wheels that needed oil. What he saw next hit him hard in the gut like a sucker punch. Erin strolled into the room, pushing a medical cart with a blanket on top of it. Instead of lingerie, she now wore baggy sweats and a loose Led Zeppelin tee shirt. Gone was the look of desire on her face. An expression of determination replaced it.

"Good day, Sunshine!" Erin cackled, parking the cart beside Dean's bed.

"Erin? What's going on?" Dean called out, despising the hint of desperation in his voice.

"I'm not going to lie. Last night was one of the best of my life. But this: this is the moment I've been dreaming of for centuries."

"'Centuries'?" Dean puzzled for a moment. "Who are you?"

"I'm a dear old friend." The blackness blanketed her eyes. "I can't believe you don't remember. You're someone I'll never forget!"

"Ruby?" Dean guessed.

Erin shook her head. "And to save you some time, I'm not Meg, either. Or Lillith. Or any of the big name demons on your Christmas card list." 

"Then who are you?"

"Let's see if we can refresh your memory."

With the dramatic flair of a magician's assistant on stage, Erin yanked the sheet off of the cart. A quick wince flashed across Dean's face, but he pasted a stoic expression back on. Instruments of torture covered every inch of the cart. Knives of all sizes and edges, lighters, and pliers lined the top.

But the bottom rungs were terrifying. On the middle level, there were jars containing dozens of spiders and angry, buzzing bees, and huge, pointy needles. And don't even mention the piece de resistance on the lower rung. This girl was a special kind of sadist, worse than any other Dean had ever encountered in his career.

Dean chanted the Latin exorcism. There was no cloud of smoke. Erin let out no groans of pain. In a mocking way, she just stood there with a happy-go-lucky smile, as if she were waiting for a bus on a spring morning. In contrast, Dean furrowed his brow at her, perplexed. To be unfazed by the exorcism, she must have been a higher up in Hell.

"Alastair loved to brag that you were his best student." Erin picked up one of the smaller knives first. "Too bad he isn't here now, because you've got nothing on me!"

"'Alastair'?" Dean repeated, the name drawing the color from his skin.

Pressing the cold blade to Dean's throat, Erin promised, "Don't worry. I won't touch your pretty little face."

"Oh yeah, and why not?"

"I may be a demon, but I'm still a woman." 

She smirked as the knife slid behind Dean's ear. Blood trickled down his neck. He grunted, but it was not satisfying enough. She knew it would not be easy. He'd been tortured by Alastair for decades downstairs, and he hadn't exactly grown up in unicorns and rainbows upstairs. It would take a lot to get under his skin.

So, Erin traded the first knife out for a much larger one with jagged edges. Without uttering a word, she held it in her fingers for a moment. Much as she wanted to, she could not make herself use it. A small part of her that maintained a desperate hold on her dwindling humanity was nagging at her. That part of her was frightened of weapons such as these.

Grunting under her breath, she gave in to who she used to be and dropped the knife. It clanked against the metal when it landed on the cart. Some demon she made. Centuries in Hell had taught her nothing. 

"You can't do it, can you?" Dean taunted, tugging at his restraints. "You're more bitch now than demon, aren't you?"

The anger built up inside of Erin. "Shut up!" 

"What's the matter? You got demon PMS?" Dean chortled.

"SHUT UP!" Erin hollered. 

She pounded her fists against the cart and rattled its contents. The bees buzzing became a loud, agitated hiss. The knives jumped and then crashed back down.

Enraged, Erin spun around to face Dean. The blackness covered her eyes, and the irate expression on her pretty face was frightening. This time, without any hesitation whatsoever, she ignited the lighter and pressed it to Dean's chest. The acrid smell of charred flesh turned Erin's stomach, causing her to regret the burgers and the booze. But Dean's horrified screams invigorated Erin in a way that disturbed the human in her.

Before long, Dean's pentagram tattoo had been burned off of his body. Blood and mangled tissue replaced smooth peachy skin. He had been foolish to show it to her. Now, he was open to demonic possession. That meant even more fun for Erin. 

Erin picked the knife back up, the one she had rejected at first. With a small smile, she dragged the knife down the other side of Dean's chest, stopping just north of his private parts. Blood trickled into his belly button. Dean breathed heavily, but he did not yell out. Disappointing.

When Dean was able to control his voice, he asked her, "Why are you doing this? What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want you to feel all the pain you caused me! I want to make you cry like you made me cry!" Erin answered. 

"I made you cry?" 

"I begged you to stop, and you didn't even care! As long as the target was off your back, it didn't matter what happened next! Well, I guess it did all work out in the end, though. I mean, we helped set Lucifer free! We're heroes to the other demons!" 

At first, Dean looked so confused. Then, Erin could see the recognition in his eyes. They widened with memories, the same memories that haunted Erin. Blood. Cuts. Hooks. Blades. Needles. Blackness. Grey. Fire. Burns.

"Oh my God," Dean whispered.


	3. "Always Got to Worry about the Payback"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin gets the payback she has been dreaming of since she and Dean were in Hell, but it might not be a dream come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this story!! Thank you for reading and for the kudos!!!
> 
> The title comes from a lyric from "Changes" by Tupac Shakur. 💖

"That's right! And the best part is, you have yourself to thank for all this! Your old friend Chuck turned me loose! Ha! You pissed off God! God! I knew you were a damned fool, but I never thought you'd be dumb enough to try to take on God!"

Cackling, Erin picked up a fishing hook that could lure a marlin. She pushed it through Dean's cartilage, piercing his ear. He grunted, but it wasn't satisfying enough. She pierced his other ear, and then his navel.

Of all of the torture she'd endured in Hell, Erin hated the hooks the most. In life, she and her family had been avid fishermen. Hooks used to represent a fun pastime. Not anymore. This was her first experience with a hook since her escape from the Pit, and it was proving unsettling.

"You can also thank your friend Chuck for helping me make this nice and personal. A limited edition, one-of-a-kind nightmare, just for you."

Erin showed Dean a ragged copy of one of Chuck's Supernatural novels. Titled Yellow Fever, the illustration on the cover depicted a cartoon of Dean with tears in his eyes as a huge white snake slithers down his chest. Of course that was one of Chuck's demented ideas for a book. He rolled his eyes in disgust. 

Disgust melted into worry. Thanks to Chuck, Erin knew all of Dean's greatest fears. This could be very unpleasant. In Hell, he had been weak. He'd succumbed to the torture and unwittingly started the Apocalypse. With customized torture, what would he give up now? 

But, really, with God as his enemy, what could a puny little demon do to him? 

This, apparently.

With a callous grin, Erin picked up the bucket of spiders. Dean willed himself not to shiver, and it would have worked if the hairs on his arms didn't stand at attention instead. Much as it killed him to admit it, Dean hated spiders. 🕷After the hunt against the bugs in Oklahoma and the Arachnea in Rhode Island, who could blame him for not liking spiders? They were creepy and dangerous. 

Erin angled the jar upside down over Dean's forehead and unscrewed the lid. Like hail during a storm, spiders rained down on Dean's skin. He yelped as hundreds of arachnids crawled all over his body, nesting in his ears, chewing on his cheeks, sniffing around his nose and mouth. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down as best he could.

Dean's eyes snapped open when he heard the buzzing noises growing louder. His heart almost exploded with terror as Erin unleashed a swarm of angry bees. Dean let out blood-curdling screams of agony. Erin could not watch as the insects unleashed their blind rage on him. 

Alastair had made it seem so fun. Erin had thought that becoming a demon would make her think and act just like Alastair and Lillith. But she wasn't enjoying this. Dean's screams were making her feel, well, bad. 

So, with a snap of her fingers, the pests disappeared. But she didn't feel much relief. Dean was panting hard, struggling to catch his breath. Hundreds of pink welts, oozing with pus, dotted his face, chest and arms. Tears flowed from his eyes like rivers.

Son-of-a-bitch.

What had she done? What had she become? Wondering if God answered the prayers of monsters, Erin mouthed the Our Father. As she prayed, she realized that this had been a mistake. Despite a century in Hell, she had not become evil, at least not all the way. 

Determined to atone for her sins, Erin picked one of the needles from the cart. Dean looked at her with desperate doe eyes as she approached him. It was almost more than she could take.

"I know you don't like needles, and I planned to use these to hurt you," Erin stated, examining his arm for a spot without any injuries. "But I promise this will help."

"Do you really think your promise means more than dirt to me?"

"No, but that doesn't make it a lie either. Now, relax your arm. It won't hurt as much."

"Why would you help me?"

Erin shrugged. "Before you made me a demon, I used to be a pretty decent person. I think, deep down, maybe I still am."

"Oh yeah, because good people always throw spiders 🕷 and bees 🐝 on other people," Dean hissed.

"I said 'deep down,' not right on the surface. Now, hold still Hunny."

"What is it?" Dean asked. He was eyeing the needle with suspicion, but his voice was frail, like a tiny kitten mewing for its mother.

"An anti-venom," Erin answered. "My son was terribly allergic to insects." 

Her voice trailed off as she lost herself in memories. Dean queried, "You had a son?"

Erin avoided his gaze. "Deep breath okay?"

"Why do you even have anti-venom?"

"You're such a busybody!" Erin exclaimed. Dean chortled. "Like I said, I didn't want to kill you, just rough you up a little. Now, on three…"

"I don't want it," Dean insisted.

Erin scoffed, "Of course, you're only in agonizing pain. Why would you want something to make you better?"

She pinched his arm a little so that the shot would not be as uncomfortable, and Dean repeated, "I don't want it."

"You're getting this shot. Now, I can make it easy for you, or I could make it fun for me." Erin's eyes flashed black. "You decide." Her eyes returned to normal. "Okay, One… Two…"

Looking so defenseless and so unlike the monster who had destroyed her soul in the Pit, Dean closed his eyes. Erin heard a quiet 'ouch' when she stuck the needle in his arm. As Erin injected him, she noticed Dean's lip quivering. She found herself enjoying this very much. Perhaps she still had a lot of demon in her, more than she'd like to think she had. 

Maybe. Maybe not. While it was sad, it was hard not to get all gushy watching Dean tremble. Her desire to hug him did not seem so strange. To the human half of her, anyway.

Once the syringe was empty, Erin discarded it. Opening his eyes, Dean watched as she sat beside him on the bed. She could not believe what she had done to the beautiful creature she had spent the most amazing evening with the night before. With regret, she rubbed one of the nasty bites on his smooth, hard stomach.


	4. "Demons Pulling at My Soul Til It's Ripped Apart"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin and Dean discuss Destiel, and she goes to great lengths to find out the truth about Dean and Castiel's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like it!! 😻
> 
> The chapter title is a lyric from "God Forgive Me" by Proof (RIP) and 50 Cent. 💖

"You might need another shot," Erin commented, continuing to note the severity of his wounds. Dean glared at her. "We'll keep an eye on you." 

"Don't take this the wrong way," Dean gasped, "but you are the most bipolar demon bitch I've ever met."

Erin chuckled, "Coming from Dean Winchester, I'll take that as a compliment."

"I can't say I blame you for wanting revenge, but you just bought yourself a one way ticket back to the Pit." His breathing started to slow, and his voice grew stronger. "You know I'm gonna get out of this, and I'm gonna kill you when I do."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself Honey Buns. You couldn't kill me in Hell and you can't kill me now," Erin laughed. "Now, your boyfriend, that's another story." 

Dean made a face in annoyance. "Cass is not my boyfriend," He countered.

"See, the fact that you know I meant Cass means you know Cass is your man," Erin responded with a smirk.

"Cass is not my man!" Dean contended.

"It's not so cute that you're in denial," remarked Erin.

"I'm not in denial okay? I knocked your boots down last night, didn't I?" Dean simpered.

Erin rolled her eyes. "Do the words 'bisexual' and 'pansexual' mean anything to you?"

"No." Dean gave a dramatic shrug.

Erin sucked her teeth. "Type 'Destiel' into Google. You'll might learn a thing or two."

"Listen I know what I like, and Cass ain't it," Dean sneered.

Erin chuckled, "You're funny!"

"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up! But when Cass and my brother find you, and they will find you, you'll be wishing you were back in the Pit with me."

"You're lucky you have such a loyal man in your life. When I do turn you loose, do yourself a big favor and tell Castiel that you love him."

"You talk like you know me."

"I do know you. I know that you're embarrassed to death about it, but you want Castiel. It's okay, Deanie, we're girlfriends. You can tell me all the details."

Rage built up in Dean, and he snapped, "Maybe you're the one who wants Cass. I mean, you are the easiest skank I've ever picked up in a bar. But I'm not gonna tell him to try you. He could do a hell of a lot better."

Erin's eyes blackened again. The shimmering traces of her humanity fell out of her like blood from a laceration. The demon who'd been poked and prodded and burned and punched into a black smoke of badness took over. Irate, she slapped Dean as hard as she could. His head snapped from the force of her hit. It felt good. 

"You hit like a girl," Dean teased, though his neck roll exercises indicated the opposite.

Erin slapped him again. A bright red palm print glowed on his cheek. It felt good to leave her mark on him. If only it was permanent. None of his injuries would last. His angel would heal him to perfection. All well. He might not have physical reminders, but he would never forget this experience. 

"You should try hand lotion sometime."

"You never shut up. Maybe that's why Castiel won't date you." 

"You're high on your own smoke." 

Erin chuckled, "Oh Honey Buns, I've been watching you since Chuck let me back upstairs. I know what Castiel goes through to get you to realize you're soul mates. Lord knows I don't get why he has to try so hard. I mean, really, anyone with eyes can see how insecure and edgy you get when Cass leaves your side for a second."

Unable to shoot off a snippy response, Dean avoided her eyes. Her minor victory brought a smile to her face. There weren't many demons out there who could win a war of words against a Winchester. She'd shut up Dean Winchester! The other demons would be green with envy!

Shoot, forget the bees and the spiders and the knives. Hurting Dean this way was simple as whistling Dixie, and it was much more fun. She hadn't liked causing him physical pain all that much. But she enjoyed getting under that scaly thick skin of his. 

And, while his physical wounds would heal, these emotional ones would linger. From then on out, Dean Winchester would overanalyze his interactions with Castiel. He would ponder questions of sexuality, love and lust. He would wonder if he knew the truth about who he really was, and…

… Maybe, just maybe, the idjit would realize how much he loved Castiel and that they belonged together. Maybe he'd act on it before it was too late. Maybe he could find what she'd cherished before she descended into Hell. Maybe some good would come of all this before Chuck destroyed Creation. 

Brilliant!

Smirking, Erin opened her mouth. The acrid black smoke of her tortured soul exploded from her vessel's mouth like a tornado bursting forth from the clouds. The woman's lifeless body collapsed onto the floor with a loud, eerie thud as the twister parted Dean's plump pink lips: the lips that had been a drug to her the night before. She heard his scream of betrayal as she slipped into his body.

Back when she was human and dirty dishes were piled high in the sink and severe stomach cramps made movement next to impossible, Erin would wonder what it would be like to be a man. Now, here she was, possessing the poster boy for masculinity. It was an eye opening experience; it wasn't all Playboy bunnies and football stats, as she had expected. Actually, she seemed to know more about sports than Dean Winchester did. His mind had way too many other preoccupations.

The legend of the Winchesters' emotional scars were well known in the Supernatural community. Castiel identified it within moments of speaking to the man he'd rescued. Lucifer played on Sam's mental illnesses with demonic delight. Ruby and Crowley were able to manipulate the Winchesters with such ease because of it. Erin had heard all of the stories.

But now she was living them through Dean's memories. It was awful, gory stuff that no human should have to carry on their shoulders. She saw Azazel's fire burning his mother to death. She saw the heart monitors falling silent as his dad descended into Hell. She saw the round bullet hole in Bobby Singer's trucker cap, and the archangel Michael dragging Adam into the Pit. 

Worst of all, Erin watched as Lucifer's angel blade pierced through Castiel's heart. As if she were right there with him, she could hear Dean's heartbreaking pleas. She could feel the incredible pain the angel's death had caused him as if it were happening to her. It was devastating. 

Still, like when she used to tune in to women's tv networks for a good cry over a tub of ice cream, Erin clicked onto the Castiel channel. For all of the time that Erin had been observing Dean, she'd been very fascinated by his relationship with Castiel. In her opinion, and all of her friends' opinions as well, Castiel and Dean's friendship was far from platonic. Their body language was much friendlier than if they were just buddies. Castiel showed Sam half the attention and compassion that he did Dean. But Erin was most convinced by the intense stares that Castiel and Dean exchanged. To an onlooker, it was as if they were gazing into each other's souls. It was beautiful to witness.

Up until this point, Erin's theory of attraction between Castiel and Dean had been speculation based on subtext. But, as Erin absorbed Dean's thoughts and feelings, she was left without a doubt.

Satisfied with her discovery, Erin burst out of Dean's mouth. She swam back in to the woman's body, bringing the corpse back to life. Erin rose to her feet and went to check on Dean. She hadn't had control of him for too long, and she hadn't done anything to harm him. He was strong, and he seemed fine. More than fine: in fact, his gorgeous green eyes were aflame with his trademark anger.


	5. Prissy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin makes Dean relive one of his worst moments in "Yellow Fever."

"You possessed me? Seriously?" Dean demanded.

"You love him!" Erin gasped.

"What?" 

With a joyful smile, Erin stated, "You love Castiel! Aww Dean! I suspected before, and I was teasing to get a rise out of you! But you do! You really do love him!"

"I do not love Cass!" Dean protested. "And I'm going to stab you for possessing me."

"I teased you because I thought you were in denial. You're not in denial. You're afraid!"

"I'm afraid of dying of boredom from this conversation," Dean retorted.

Erin shook her head. "Oh Dean, you don't have to be afraid. Castiel loves you."

"You need to lay off the Chuck Shurley books. They're frying your mind," Dean sneered. 

"Castiel loves you, Dean. You've got to believe that! You've got to take a chance! You two belong together! I just know it!"

"I'm not going after Cass," Dean insisted, his voice the growl of a mountain lion. 

"Why?" Erin implored him.

"You're torturing me! Why do you care what I do?" Dean yelled. 

"We're bonded Dean, for better or for worse. I'm going to die, but maybe I can leave one last good thing behind. Frankly, I think Castiel deserves better, but he wants you and you want him. So, here I am trying to make it happen!" Erin cried out. 

A long period of quiet passed before Dean at last squeaked out, "Why do you care so much about Cass anyway?"

Erin shrugged. "Crowley cared about him."

"Crowley," Dean said thoughtfully. "You were immune to the exorcism."

She gave him a wistful smile. "You could say I was a pet of his. He took a liking to me, taught me things the other demons would kill to learn." Anger crested inside her like a wave. "He died trying to save you." 

Dean did not answer. The loss of Crowley was still a very sore spot for him, something he couldn't discuss. In the past, Crowley had double crossed and exploited everyone Dean loved. But Crowley had been a crafty yet devoted friend and ally as well. Dean would always be grateful to Crowley for saving Castiel from a gruesome death from the Lance of Michael, and for sacrificing himself to trap Lucifer in the Apocalypse World. 

So, it was not easy for Dean to talk about Crowley. But Erin didn't take it that way. She mistook his silence for indifference. 

"You took my friend from me!" Erin screamed. Her fist connected with his eye, ripping a small tear in his eyebrow. "You took everything from me!" 

"I didn't…" 

But he couldn't finish his sentence. Erin's palm smashed into his cheek. His skin stung like a bad sunburn. 

"My name was Erin Shaunassey!" Erin hollered. "I was a brunette. I lived my whole life in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn with my family." She slapped him again, causing his eye to tear up. "I was married to the most amazing man in the world! I had the most wonderful child in the world. I had a job that I loved! I was a deacon in the church! I had everything!"

"Well, if your life was a Norman Rockwell painting, why the hell did you sell your soul to a crossroads demon?" Dean spat, wiggling his jaw to ease the tingling in his cheek. 

"I had to!" Erin screamed. As she spoke, her anger dissipated, and sadness replaced it. "The doctors said I shouldn't even have him. They said he probably wouldn't even survive his birth. They practically scheduled an abortion for me." Erin slunk back down onto the bed, her shoulders and head slumped. "Outside the clinic, there was this handsome man with a British accent."

"Crowley." He paused. "You think Crowley is handsome?"

She shot him daggers with her eyeballs. "Screw you. Oops, I forgot. Already did."

"Ha ha ha."

Erin nodded. "Crowley asked me, if I could have anything I ever dreamed of, what would it be. I sold my soul to him in exchange for my son to get to live a long, healthy life."

"Do you regret it at all?"

"Do you regret saving your brother?"

"Not for a second." They both smiled. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about your son."

"I know you are, and I'm sorry about Sam. And I know I had it coming, what you did to me in Hell."

"Then, why are you doing this to me now?"

"What goes around comes around. After this, we'll be even, and we'll both get a little peace. I know how much guilt you carry around from what you did in Hell. Now you don't have to anymore because you've paid restitution. Then Castiel will kill me for what I've done to his beau, and I'll go to the Empty. Everybody wins." Erin shuffled her feet, appearing less tolerant of the prospect of eternity in the Empty than she would have liked to let on.

But Dean failed to notice. "Stop talking about me and Cass like we're Romeo and Juliet! It stopped being funny the first time." 

"I'm not here to amuse you. I'm trying to teach you something," Erin murmured.

"You're a little too prissy to be quoting 'Goodfellas'. Why don't you stick to what you can understand, like tabloids and other girly crap?" Dean cackled. 

"You want to see 'prissy'? I'll show you 'prissy'."

He'd done it again. The blackness washed over her irises. Erin stamped back over to the cart and picked up the bucket from the lowest tier of the cart. The hissing churned Dean's stomach like spoiled butter. 

Dozens of snakes fell from the bucket and landed all over Dean. Commanding himself not to cry, Dean imagined himself somewhere else, anywhere else: in the bunker, sharing a beer with Sam and Cass. A snake chomped on his neck. In Lawrence with Mom and Dad. Another slithered between his legs. In the salvage yard, repairing the Impala with Bobby. Two more bit into his hands. At a barbecue with Lisa and Ben. A snake sniffed around his ear, trying to figure out how to get in. Purgatory with Cass and Benny. Dean's heart was thudding so fast that he feared he might…

Faint.


	6. For Good Measure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is rescued, but he isn't the only one who needs to be saved.

Blackness.

Wailing out his name, Erin rushed over to him. She shouted out the words to the Our Father prayer loud enough to ensure that it would echo in Chuck's ears until she was sure Dean would survive. With a snap of her fingers all the snakes disappeared. She pressed an ear to his chest and was very relieved to discover that he was still breathing. Running as fast as her legs would carry her, she returned with a pot of cold water. 

Erin threw the water in Dean's face. His eyes popped open as goosebumps rose up all over his battered body. Sighing in relief, Erin laced her arms around Dean's neck and buried her head in his blistered chest. 

"Thank God," Erin whispered. "I thought I wanted revenge on you, but I was wrong. This is not who I am." Erin grabbed a knife from the cart and pressed it to the rope binding his feet to the bed. "I'm so sorry, Dean Winchester."

The knife broke the rope, and Dean bent his stiff legs. Erin started sawing the rope around his hands. It was stubborn and did not want to tear, so she had to put more force into it. 

Then, as she almost cut through the ligature, from out of nowhere, Dean called out, "Cass! Sam! Wait!"

Erin spun around just in time to duck. The angel blade swooshed above her head. She jumped up off of the bed, feeling like an animal in a cage. There was nowhere to go. The angel Castiel and Dean's little brother Sam were blocking her escape path. Sam aimed a demon killing knife at her as Castiel swung the angel blade. 

With that, Erin surrendered to the inevitable. She had done everything she'd dreamed of doing while she was in Hell. She'd visited her son, and she'd seen with her own eyes how happy and healthy he was. She'd enjoyed great sex with a hot guy. She got her revenge on Dean Winchester and found it less than satisfying. She saw that Hell had not completely corrupted her. 

Having had all of those experiences, she could die without any qualms. This time around, she would sleep for all time in eternity alongside her friends Crowley, Meg, Lucifer and Ruby, and eventually (but hopefully not too soon) Castiel in the Empty as opposed to enduring infinite torture and heat in Hell. That was the icing on her just desserts.

Castiel held Erin at bay while Sam cut Dean loose. The severity of Dean's wounds made it difficult for him to move, and Sam had to help him up out of the bed. Once he was up, he limped in between Castiel and Erin. 

Instead of lowering his weapon, which was the effect Dean had hoped for, Castiel lunged towards Erin. The blood, bruises, burns, cuts and stings all over Dean's body enraged Castiel more than anything else ever had. Castiel's lust for revenge surprised even Dean. It was strange to see his angel so out of control and thirsty for payback. Sure, Castiel had always reacted when his humans were in danger, but Dean had been trying to teach Cass to ask questions before he killed his enemies. This would have been a great time for him to listen. 

"Wait just a minute!" Dean hollered. Glaring at the demon, Castiel bided Dean's request and backed up. Dean turned to Erin. "Your meatsuit? Who is she?"

"A...A junkie from LA. She'd just overdosed on Heroin when I found her. Gotta admit, I had a lot of fun filling her up with cheeseburgers and ice cream. Lord knows the girl needed a meal," Erin told them. "But it was a bitch trying to cover up all the track marks." 

She examined her arms for a minute. Then she appeared to remember that a furious angel wanted nothing more than to torch her. Her eyes shifted between Dean and Castiel every few seconds. Something about her reminded the boys of an animal that wanted to concede defeat but had a few drops of adrenaline remaining. 

"Dean, what are you…" Sam whispered. 

Ignoring his brother, Dean pried, "So without you…"

"... Her body dies. Her soul checked out before I checked in," Erin finished. "If you're gonna sic your dog on me, just do it already. God knows I deserve it, and I can see he's chomping at the bit to get to me."

Castiel's body tensed. But Dean trusted him with his whole heart, and with good reason. Castiel would not attack Erin until Dean gave him the go-ahead. 

Dean queried, "What if you got another chance?" 

"You'd let me live? A demon? After what I did to you?" Erin sounded incredulous. 

"Not as a demon," Dean affirmed. "We can cure you, make you human again."

Erin let out a nervous giggle. "I don't know. You got Crowley hooked on it. "

"You won't get addicted," Sam answered.

"He said to the demon wearing a dead druggie," Erin chortled.

"We didn't finish the cure with Crowley. That's why it didn't work. We can make you human again. You can be with your family again. You can have the life that was taken from you," Dean promised her. 

Wiggling her nose, Erin pondered it for a moment. At the same time, Castiel asked, "Dean, you don't have to save her. Not after what she did to you. You redeemed yourself a long time ago. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Dean and Erin stared at each other. One look was full of cautious hope. The other contained compassion, opening up like a flower after a thunderstorm. 

But between them both was the special sense shared by two people who endured the unfathomable together and survived. They could both feel it. For better or for worse, Dean and Erin were bound to one another. He could not kill her any more than she could kill him. 

Without giving a direct answer, Dean instructed Sam to restrain her. Erin offered no resistance as Sam slapped the Men of Letters demonic handcuffs on her wrist. Odds are that she would not have harmed any of them. It was clear that she was too afraid of Castiel to try anything stupid. Still, it was better not to risk it.

Since they had the demon in control, it was time to focus on Dean. Sam found a pair of unisex SpongeBob Squarepants pajama pants that would fit Dean. As a bonus, he would be able to tease his brother without mercy for wearing SpongeBob pajamas. Next, Sam removed his flannel shirt and gave it to Dean, buttoning his coat up over his long-johns.

Castiel pressed his palm to Dean's head. Dean closed his eyes as a white light burst from the angel's hand. Seconds later, Dean was all better. All of the gruesome scars of what he had just gone through disappeared as if they had never existed. Dean was beautiful again, even more so than when he'd been promoted by Alastair in Hell. Although Erin knew of the powers an angel possessed, she had never witnessed a healing before. It was miraculous. Hands almost unable to move from the cuffs, she managed to make the sign of the cross ✝ over her heart. 

Once again, Erin did not fight back as Sam tied a bandana over her eyes. Then she was being pulled out of her house and into the Impala. Maybe she couldn't see it, but she could recognize the purr of the engine and the sounds of classic rock from the atrax anywhere. She also assumed, correctly, that they had made the angel sit beside her in the back seat, for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading my works!!
> 
> Today is my bff's birthday 🎂 yay!!
> 
> It is such a blessing to be out of quarantine and around other people again. God bless!! 💖


	7. Blood Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Castiel and Sam use the Purified Blood Cure to turn Erin human again.

When the Winchesters removed the blindfold from Erin's face, she found herself in a dark, dank basement that stunk of deprivation and despair. Her hands and legs were tied to a cold metal chair with ropes and chains. As if she could somehow escape from that, two pentagrams on the floor and ceiling trapped her in place. 

"Well, you sure do know how to make a girl feel welcome," Erin chuckled. "Who needs wine? I'm ready to take my clothes off right now."

"Is there a rule in Hell that says demons can never shut up?" Sam retorted, opening a small cooler on a table across the room.

"Actually yeah. Lucifer decreed it while he was wearing you as his dirty drawers!" Erin snapped back.

"I remember that. It was right after we shoved our foot up your ass," Sam stated.

Erin chuckled, "Oh, no, Sweetie, you see things when you withdraw off bitch blood." She attached out her arms, showing off her inner elbow. "Come, take a taste. I can see you're just dying for a hit!"

The younger Winchester charged her, but Dean stopped him with a warning look.

Turning to Erin, Dean said, "You're making it really hard to save you."

"Why do you even want to save her?" Sam demanded  
.   
Why Dean was putting them to all this trouble? They had so much to deal with at the moment, such as the end of the world, Chuck style. Curing this one twisted demon seemed like an irrelevant waste of time.

Disregarding their questions, Dean yelled, "ERIN!"

"Gol-ly, I was just making a joke! Sheesh, I'm sorry. I'm just a little nervous, okay? You're about to dope me up, and, if by some stroke of luck I don't die, everything is going to change," Erin admitted. 

"Change can be for the best," Castiel affirmed. 

The angel picked up a syringe and filled it with purified blood from the local Christian hospital. Erin held her breath as he walked up to her. She wasn't sure what she was more afraid of: shooting up a demon drug 💉 into the body of an addict or the divine wrath of the angel-boyfriend of the man she had just tortured. 

Curling her fingers against the chains, Erin dug her acrylic nails into the chair as Castiel recited the Latin cantation. She prayed that God would forgive all of the terrible things that she had done. She prayed that this would work and that she would be a real human again. 

Without warning, Castiel stabbed Erin's neck with the needle. She howled in pain as the purified blood attacked her demon blood. It was just like back in Hell, when Dean would inject her with God knows what. Her whole body felt hot. She jumped in her seat, but she couldn't move much. Fortunately, it was just the first dose, so the pain didn't last that long. 

The scene repeated again and again and again. Each time, Castiel would jab Erin in the roughest way possible, as payback for what she'd done to Dean. She would cry out. Castiel would enjoy it, and maybe Sam would too.

But the fourth time, halfway through the treatment, the pain intensified. When Castiel injected her, Erin writhed in agony. Screaming, she thrashed against the restraints. Her blood was boiling, in the literal sense, not figurative. Her arms and neck stung. Her head ached. Her stomach knotted up. 

Watching her suffer wounded Dean in the deepest space of his soul. He remembered every minute of it. The false bravado. The anxiety. The bite of the dreaded needle. The hellfire fever. The rope burns. Every day, he carried those awful memories. Worst of all, he struggled with the horrible things he'd done. 

After the fourth dose, Dean could not take it anymore. He stood up so fast that his chair fell over, and he stomped out of the room. Castiel followed him, leaving Sam to babysit the demon.

A short distance away, Dean stood over a sink. Cold water soaked into a dirty rag. He shut the water off, but he didn't turn around to face the angel.

It was just like when Crowley was trying to get Gadreel out of Sam. Dean couldn't take it and left. Castiel followed him to make sure he was okay. Castiel always went out of his way to make sure Dean was okay. Dean didn't know what he would do without the angel watching over him, hard as it was for him to admit it.


	8. Castiel Always Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel Always Knows 💖

"Dean," Castiel whispered. 

"I should kill her, right? This shouldn't bother me so much, right?" Dean growled. 

Rather than recoil from Dean's unwarranted hostility, his angel came closer. The warmth of the seraph's hand on Dean's shoulder made him unwind immediately. With that relaxation came the regret for his unnecessary outburst. Of course, Castiel understood his temper and did not take his vitriol to heart. Still, it was not right for him to bite Cass's head off like that. 

Not that Dean would apologize, it was not easy for him to say sorry. Castiel knew this about his best friend as well. In this way, Castiel was more human than Dean was. When he was wrong, and he made mistakes quite often, he admitted it, especially when he hurt Dean in the process. 

It hadn't clicked in Dean's mind right away. The comment slipped by, almost unnoticed. But in the midst of the hours of watching Erin undergo her transformation, and analyzing all of the day's events, Dean put two and two together.

"You know who she is, don't you?" Dean asked, his voice softer, less aggressive.

Castiel nodded. "I can see her true face."

"So you know why I have to save her?"

"I know why you want to save her," Castiel amended. Dean tensed. "Dean, she damned herself." 

"'She damned herself' trying to save her son. What makes that any different than me selling my soul for Sammy?" Dean countered.

"There is no difference." Dean rolled his eyes at the angel, who still had to point out the obvious. Castiel just went on. "Look, all I'm saying is, if it hadn't been you torturing her, it would have been Alastair or some other demon."

"So what's your point?" 

"My point is, you don't owe her anything."

"I know I don't."

Castiel smiled. "The Righteous Man." 

For a moment, Dean smiled back. He appreciated that Castiel understood and supported his decision, even if it was with some reluctance. Still, instead of responding right away, Dean studied Castiel. It was something Erin had said before she'd violated him in the worst way. Her words repeated in his mind like a scratched CD. 

'I know that you're embarrassed to death about it, but you want Castiel. It's okay, Deanie, we're girlfriends. You can tell me all the details.' 

Was she just messing with him? Or was there some truth to what she'd said? Was he as easy to see through as an open window? Did he make it that obvious?

It was Castiel who'd noticed that he was upset, not Sam. It was Castiel who was trying, in his way, to watch out for Dean. It was Castiel who had rescued both Winchesters from Hell and brought Bobby back to life. It was Castiel who made Dean feel safe. It was Castiel who got Dean in ways nobody else ever could.   
It was always Castiel.

But how did they all know? Dean had never spoken the words. In all honesty, there wasn't a good chance that he ever would. Still, they knew. Sam. Bobby. Erin. Balthazar. Crowley. Meg. Uriel. Benny. Hannah. They all knew. 

Why couldn't he hide it? How much longer was he willing to lie to himself and to everyone else? Why couldn't he be the man he wished he was? 

Another thing: Erin was the only one to call him out on his humiliation. Maybe the others suspected as much, but they never said it. But she was right. 

In the parts of his heart that he never let see the light of day, Dean Winchester wanted Castiel, and it embarrassed him to no end. 

How did he let a demon get so deep into his head that she could use his eyeballs as binoculars?

When this was all over, Dean planned on getting wasted and having a few more pentagrams tattooed on other parts of his body. No demon would ever wear him to the prom again.

All of these thoughts and questions made him as dizzy as if he were riding the teacups at the carnival. His head ached from the screams and the stress. More than anything, he wished he'd never went out to that bar last night. He wished he had never tortured Erin Shaunessey.

Just like that, warm arms enveloped Dean. Castiel pulled Dean into an embrace. Although Dean tended to become uneasy with touch-feely stuff, he melted into his angel's touch. It was one of the reasons that people who knew him well thought that he… liked Cass. With anybody else, he recoiled from hugs. With Cass, not so much. He nuzzled into Castiel's shoulder and squeezed with all his might. 

The damndest thing was, Castiel could always tell. Castiel always knew when Dean needed a warm hug, or when he just needed to be left alone. Castiel would appear when Dean was lonesome and disappear when he was sure Dean was alright. Right now, Dean was far from fine, and his angel knew and made it better.

All that was true. Dean would never deny that he could not live without Castiel. He couldn't. And, as the demon had noted with such eloquence, anybody with eyes could see that Dean and Castiel needed each other.

But that did not mean that Dean had those kinds of feelings for Cass. Just because he loved hugging the angel and could open up to nobody else but him, that didn't mean anything. Just because Dean felt like dying when Castiel was wounded by Ramiel and stabbed by Lucifer, it didn't mean that there was anything more than friendship between the two of them.


	9. Ruby Ridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin and Sam also share a connection, one that brings out the worst in Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Sam fans: I wrote these chapters while watching season six, where Sam accused Castiel of losing his soul on purpose. It made me mad and I took it out on my story Sam. Lol. Im sorry and I really do love Sam.

A horrifying scream jerked Dean out of his own mind. Dean and Castiel dashed back to the devil's trap. Erin was howling like a wounded wolf, thrashing against her bindings. At first, Dean and Cass were confused. It wasn't time for another injection yet. Then, they realized that her hair and tee shirt were soaking wet. Sam had doused her in Holy water. 

"Sam, what the Hell?" Dean demanded. 

"Tell them!" Sam barked, aiming the container of Holy water at Erin. She steadied her body, but her breathing remained fast and heavy. 

"Blow me!" Erin gasped. "Actually, never mind. Ruby told me how bad you are at it."

Sam dumped more Holy water on her, making her shriek. As the demon writhed in agony, Castiel swiped the container away from Sam and passed it over to Dean. While Cass never objected to torturing demons, this one meant something to Dean, and Dean meant everything to Cass. He couldn't let Sam continue to hurt her, at least until they knew why he was doing so.

"Erin? What did you say to him?" Dean asked, once Erin's pain had subsided. 

"Nothing! I just told him some things Ruby said about him. You know, before you ganked her."

"How did you even know Ruby? She was killed before you even became a demon," Castiel queried.

Erin shrugged. "What can I say? I'm likable, even in Hell."

"Erin." The tone of Dean's voice was chiding, and she felt as though she had just gotten caught passing notes back in Homeroom.

Sighing, Erin elaborated, "Ruby knew about me. All the demons did. Well, hey, you did use me to free our Pops, after all. When she would come to the Pit, she'd tell me things about upstairs and the plot to bust Lucifer out of the state pen. She was my friend. She got me off the rack a few times, till you axed her."

"Let me guess, you guys had pillow fights in pink nighties," Sam heckled.

"Black lace, actually. We were in Hell." Erin batted her eyes, and Sam glared at her.

"What did you say to Sam that made him so mad?" Castiel asked.

Losing her demonic demeanour for a moment, Erin whispered to Castiel, "When Ruby was trying to build Sam's powers, she asked me for help. I was barely a demon. I hadn't been in the Pit all that long, but it was long enough. I agreed. She helped me out of the devil's gate and found me a meatsuit. Ruby told me that Sam was going to send me back to Hell, but she would break me out again as soon as she could. I didn't know how. Still don't. That's why I had to wait for Chuck to turn me loose. Anyway, Sam used his powers to exorcise me, but not before killing my meatsuit."

Sam tried to speak, but there were no words. His addiction to demon blood was still a very sore subject in their family. Despite their stopping the Apocalypse, Sam had never forgiven himself for breaking the final seal, and Dean was never able to give his brother his full trust. 

"Her name was Carole Dixon. She was a Home Ec teacher from Jacksonville. She was supposed to be just fine, and she died. And it was our fault!" Erin whimpered.

"It was your fault! You possessed her!" Sam protested. Nonetheless, it sounded like he did not believe his own words.

"I thought you were strong enough to get the job done! I didn't think you would kill her!" Tears spilled from Erin's eyes. She must have been more human than demon at that point. Demons didn't cry. "You made me a murderer, Sam Winchester! I don't know how to forgive you for that!"

"I'm not seeking your forgiveness," Sam told her.

"Sure you are. I don't think you've ever forgiven yourself for what you did with Ruby. But that's not my business. I need it for myself. If I don't survive this, I don't want to toss and turn in the Empty. I want peaceful sleep."

"And if you do survive it?" Dean asked. 

Bold blue eyes locked on hopeful green ones. "I am going to church to get baptized again. But first, I have to seek forgiveness for all of the screwed up things I've done, like killing Carole Dixon with 'Bungalow Bill' here. I'm sorry for upsetting you, Sam. Dean, I am so sorry for hurting you. I am so sorry." Then she fixed her stare on Castiel. "And to you, I am so sorry I hurt the thing you love most in this world. And I'm sorry I was unable to convince him that he feels the same way you do; can't say I didn't give it the ol' college try, eh Deanie?"

Tilting his head in adorable confusion, Castiel asked, "Dean, what is she talking about?"

"Nothing, Cass." 

Blowing air out of her lips, Erin affirmed, "Castiel, Dean is in love with you, and he's terrified that you'll break his heart if he gives it to you. I know because I possessed him so I could read his thoughts."

"You possessed him!" Cass demanded. 

"I had to know why you two aren't together yet!" Erin answered. The boys glared at her. "Well excuse me for using my demon powers for good for once." 

"Alright, I think it's time for some more shut-up-juice," Dean stated. He nodded to Castiel, who picked up another syringe. 💉

"You'll thank me for this one day," Erin remarked with a cocky smile.

"Yeah, you will too," Castiel assured her as he jammed the needle into her arm. She yelped, then tossed and turned against the ropes, trying to put out the fire raging in her blood.


	10. Wanting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Erin exposes Dean's secret, Dean and Castiel open up about their true feelings for each other.

Over the years, Dean had done some pretty humiliating things. He'd argued with a pigeon in broad daylight in the middle of a parking lot. Even though it worked, the pudding incident remained a most cringeworthy moment. To this day, Sammy still teased him for being afraid of that stupid cat 🐱 in the locker. Hell, he'd lost count of all the times he'd been drunk and done something to shame himself. 

But nothing compared to this. Dean didn't think that he would ever be able to look Cass in the eyes again. For a moment, Dean hated himself for curing Erin. Cass had been right. He didn't have to save her, and he should not have. If he would have just let Cass gank her back at her place, his secret would have died with her. 

All of his loved ones had known, or at least suspected. But they'd had the decency to use innuendo to hint at the feelings between Dean and Cass. That had been bad enough.

Erin had none of their grace about her. She'd said it outright. She'd exposed Dean for what he was: a lovestruck coward. The elephant 🐘 that followed Dean into every room had trumpeted its trunk at last. They would never be able to un-hear those words.

At some point, Dean would have to face Castiel. It was either that or cut off their friendship… and that had worked out fan-freaking-tastic for them last time. A few months ago, when Castiel left the bunker, he brought to life Dean's worst fear of all, the one even demented demon Erin could not even get anywhere near. Even though Dean pushed Castiel away to protect his own heart, he was, in fact, terrified of losing him. Watching Castiel go damaged Dean in a way nothing else ever had, not even the deaths of his parents or his separation from Lisa or Cassie. Cass returned, but there was still a rift between the two of them .Then, after the Leviathans captured Castiel in Purgatory, Dean suffered with the fear that Castiel would die not knowing how much Dean cared about him and how sorry he was. 

Dean had more than learned his lesson from that episode. He was never going to go through that pain again. Nothing was ever going to interfere with his relationship with Castiel. So, he had no choice. Dean would have to discuss this with Castiel. 

The problem was, Erin was right. Well, of course she was right. She'd quite literally walked a mile in his shoes, and she knew the truth. Dean was terrified that Castiel would reject him. Sure, he'd gone through break ups and shoot downs. Who hadn't? It wasn't fun, but it wasn't intolerable, either. Castiel's absence was a dangerous winter storm: cold, gloomy, grey, lonesome, and there was no sign of sunshine. Dean could not go through that again. He just couldn't. He would rather die.

What would Cass say, now that everything was out in the open? Would he understand? Would their friendship endure? Would everything be awkward now at a time when they most needed each other to survive? 

The possibility lingered in Dean's mind, much as he wished it wouldn't torment him. Maybe, just maybe, Castiel felt the same way. If Castiel loved him, it would be the greatest blessing of his life. If Castiel loved him, he would fight even harder to defeat Chuck and nurture their relationship. If Castiel loved him, Dean Winchester could find some well deserved peace at the end of all of this. If Castiel loved him…

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

"It's me," came Castiel's soft voice.

"Come in," Dean murmured.

The door squeaked as it opened, then again as it closed. Castiel frowned with concern as he perched at the foot of Dean's bed. The angel could hear Dean's pounding heart, could smell the blood flushing his cheeks. Seeing Dean get so humiliated upset Castiel so much. 

"Are you okay?" Castiel inquired. 

Dean always chided him for his silly, unnecessary statements. He really was trying to improve his people skills. Sometimes, though, he just couldn't contain himself. 

"Peachy 🍑," Dean muttered, still not looking at his angel. 

"You're embarrassed," Castiel told him. "But you have no reason to be." 

Dean let out a forced, fake laugh. "The twisted demon bitch I'm hell bent on saving just spilled all my deepest secrets, and I have no reason to be embarrassed." Chewing on his lip, Castiel hesitated, as if trying to decide if he should interject or not. "Just say what you're thinking, Cass."

"Dean, I knew all along. I've always known," Castiel stated, his tone soft and somewhat reassuring. 

Eyebrows raised in surprise, Dean asked, "You…" but he couldn't finish the sentence. 

"I can read your mind," Castiel reminded him. 

Damn. That particular possibility had never occurred to Dean. His crush was an angel. Of course he could read his mind. Dean had utilized Cass's ability to determine if witnesses were lying during hunts. Dean felt like a frigging idiot.

Maybe that wasn't quite right. Maybe he'd never thought about it before because he trusted his angel with all his heart. Dean never imagined that Castiel would violate his privacy in such a powerful way. Their bond was built on a deep faith in one another. 

Dean recalled when Bobby and Sam suspected that Castiel was working with Crowley to unlock Purgatory. Even though all the evidence suggested Castiel's guilt, Dean refused to believe it. He could not accept the fact that his angel would do anything to hurt him. 

Okay, to be fair, this wasn't quite like that. That had been a devastating disappointment. This was an unpleasant little revelation, like when Castiel said he hadn't come to help the Winchesters just because Dean had called him. It wasn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but damn, it still hurt. 

Of course, Dean knew that there was nothing malicious in what his friend had done. Castiel's powers came as natural to him as breathing did for humans. It was not as if Cass set out to spy on Dean. He'd more than learned his lesson after the whole episode with the Leviathans, and Dean was sure Castiel would never do anything like that ever again. 

Still, Dean really felt like he could die of embarrassment. Castiel knew everything. Castiel knew how much Dean longed to melt into those infinitely strong arms and allow the angel's grace to soak up all of his pain. Castiel knew how desperately Dean wished he could speak the words that pushed against his lips but could never escape. Castiel knew how Dean wondered what it would be like to press his mouth against Castiel's, to undo that messy blue tie and slide his hands beneath that trench coat. 

Worst of all, Castiel knew how ashamed Dean was of having those thoughts. 

It was that shame that made it difficult for Dean to even look Castiel in the eyes. Dean didn't want to be embarrassed by his feelings for Cass. It was not fair. Anybody would be lucky to have Cass, male or female, human or angel. Cass deserved so much better than this, but…

...If Cass had chosen a female vessel, Dean would have married his angel ten years ago. 

This was a truism that Dean pondered every single day of his life. Not a moment passed by that he didn't contemplate the nuances of his sexuality and the conflicts they presented. Because, yes, he was physically attracted to women. But Dean was inexorably in love with Castiel. 

Emotionally.  
Mentally.  
Physically.

Dean was irrevocably in love with Castiel.

His attraction to women and his perfect love for Castiel were two ideas that Dean could not reconcile. 

All of these ideas swam around in Dean's mind. They nibbled at him like bluegill toying with a fisherman's hook. Knowing that Castiel could hear all of it made Dean feel naked and exposed. Despite that, there were so many things Dean wanted to say to Castiel, so many questions he wanted to ask, so many whys he wanted to shout to the sky. 

He may have had a few choice words for Chuck as well. This was His fault. All of it was a part of the twisted story He was writing. 

But, instead, Dean squeaked out, "Why didn't you ever say anything?" 

He sounded like a pathetic little mouse stuck on a glue trap, and he hated himself for it. 

But Castiel's ocean blue eyes were warm and gentle like the beach at sunset, and Dean saw not even an ounce of judgment in them. 

And, to Dean's surprise, Castiel answered, "I didn't want to impose on you. I wanted you to tell me when you were ready."

Although Dean was not sure what he expected Castiel's response to be, he still felt like that one came out of left field. But it should not have. Castiel always thought of Dean before himself. In Purgatory, Castiel tried his best to lead the Leviathans away from Dean. On more than one occasion, Castiel had disobeyed and betrayed Heaven to protect Dean.

In ordinary circumstances, this would be the part where Sam interrupted their dialogue and they dropped the topic for good, the part where Erin threw her book against the wall in frustration. But Sam was nowhere in sight, and Erin was being quiet for once. So, short of a massive earthquake or an immediate Chuck sighting, they would be having this conversation.

But what on earth would Dean say to that? Because Sam or circumstance always intervened, Dean never had to address the selfless things Castiel did for him. All of the things he wanted to tell him sounded messy and ugly compared to the kindness and abnegation Castiel was showing him.

One selfish question nagged at him, and Dean couldn't stop himself from asking, "What if I was never ready?"

Blue eyes locked on green, and Castiel declared, "I don't want to live without you. It doesn't matter what you consider me. I just want to be part of your life."

Just when he thought Castiel could not be any sweeter, the angel went and outdid himself. That was one of the most beautiful things anyone had ever said to Dean. It touched him to his soul. 

All his life, Dean had been searching for unconditional love. He'd never had it from his folks, and he didn't always get it from Sam. The closest he'd ever come to having unconditional love was Bobby, who was more a parent to him than either Mary or John. 

But the love Castiel showed Dean was different. Castiel's love for Dean was one hundred percent pure. It was wholly good. Castiel loved Dean for Dean, and he never asked for anything in return. 

Castiel's asceticism troubled Dean. Dean could never give Castiel what Castiel so deserved. There wasn't anything Dean could give the being who gave him everything.

Except….

"That's not the whole truth, is it Cass?" Dean pried. Castiel squinted in confusion. "Balthazar told me that you're in love with me. So did Hester and Meg. Just being my friend isn't really enough for you, is it?"

"Dean," Castiel whispered, but he couldn't finish his sentence. 

"No, Cass. Be honest with me!" Dean demanded. "Being just my friend is not enough to make you happy, is it?"

"Dean…"

"...Yes or no?" Dean interrupted. 

Unwilling or unable to speak the words, Castiel shook his head. No. Castiel wanted to be more than friends with Dean. 

Once again, Dean felt like the scum of the earth. Yet again, Castiel had cast aside his own well being in order to protect Dean. And, once again, Dean had not been aware of Castiel's sacrifice. 

How could he have been so blind? Castiel was Dean's best friend in the world. He was supposed to know him better than anyone. Yet Dean was always caught off guard by the depths of the angel's devotion to him.

What was it that Erin said?

"We're bonded Dean, for better or for worse. I'm going to die, but maybe I can leave one last good thing behind. Frankly, I think Castiel deserves better, but he wants you and you want him. So, here I am trying to make it happen!"

She'd said Cass deserved better. Much as it was a bullet to the heart, it might have been true. Maybe Dean wasn't good enough for Cass. He never could fathom all the kindness the angel showed him, and he let the angel down all the time. For the rest of his life, Dean would be haunted by the shattered look on Castiel's face when Dean blamed all of their misfortunes on him. It was one of the worst things he'd ever done in his screwed up life, and he would never forgive himself for it. Those cruel words caused Castiel to leave him, and Dean felt as though he would die from the pain. After what Dean had done, it was nothing short of a miracle, or perhaps the purest form of true love, that Castiel still cared. 

Yeah, Castiel deserved a hell of a lot better. 

Yet, maybe it was time to give them what they both wanted so much. They were both damaged, but maybe if they put the pieces of their broken hearts 💔 together, they could construct something beautiful and whole. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith. 

The prospect terrified Dean. Despite his tough guy persona, Dean was scared to Death of getting hurt. Even more so than Sam, Castiel was the only being that could destroy Dean down to his very core. If that were to happen, if Dean were to give his heart to Castiel, and Castiel left again, Dean would not be able to carry on. Without Castiel, Dean's soul would never heal, and he would surely die. 

"I'll never break your heart," Castiel whispered, his words soft and sincere. 

"Cass…" Dean murmured, but his voice trailed off.

"Dean, you mean everything to me. I could never hurt you," Castiel declared.

"I know, Cass." 

"But that's not enough, is it?" Castiel pressed. 

In true Cass form, he didn't sound angry or bitter. His eyes were squinted, so he was probably confused and trying to understand. But damn if he didn't have that way of flipping the script on Dean when he didn't think one was even written. 

It was because Castiel was the one, and Dean knew it. And it scared him to death. Nobody in his life understood Dean the way Cass did, not even Sam. Dean never let anyone as close to his heart as he allowed Cass. The fact that Dean and Castiel were one in so many ways was not surprising, but it was still frightening. 

Now very cognizant of the reality that Castiel could hear his thoughts, Dean knew that Castiel was aware of his true issue with Destiel. It was embarrassing, sure. He wondered ruefully if Castiel would be offended by this revelation.

"No, I am not offended," Castiel answered. Dean's pulse quickened a little. "I would never coerce you into anything you aren't ready for. The truth is, it scares me, too. The one being I had sex with killed me afterwards like a praying mantis." Dean couldn't hold back an uneasy chuckle at the joke, despite the fact that that had been one of the worst moments of his life. "And that's not what I really want, anyway."

"Well, what do you want?" Dean asked, softly.

Piercing Dean's beautiful green eyes with the intensity of his gaze, Castiel declared, "I want you to tell me that you love me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading my works!!
> 
> I have just moved from Florida to Tennessee and my phone service is lousy. I will update as best I can.
> 
> I love love love Destiel 😻


	11. Meanwhile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean bond, while Erin and Sam try to do the same.

I love you.

Castiel wanted the one thing that Dean could never give him. 

In Dean's experience, it always seemed to be the same song and dance over and over. Everyone that he loved needed what he could not provide. Lisa wanted him to give up hunting to pursue normalcy with her and Ben. But Sam and Samuel returned, and Dean gave up his domestic bliss for the life he was born to live. As much as he had liked Anna, he could not give her the freedom that she longed for. It was never a choice between her and his brother. Now, Castiel needed the one thing that could break Dean Winchester in pieces if he even tried to give it to him.

I love you.

It was just three little words. Why couldn't Dean say them? He felt them. Of course he felt them. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to scream them from the rooftops!

I LOVE YOU CASTIEL!

I'VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU!!

The moments when Dean Winchester could not speak from the heart were very few and far between. But this was one of them. Castiel was watching him with patience and kind, loving eyes, and, much as Dean longed to please Castiel, the words did not come. This was so much harder than it should have been. 

Why was it so difficult? The men in the cheesy chick-flicky movies Sam watched said it with such ease. But those guys hadn't watched their mothers burn to death on the ceiling or their father descend into Hell or their brother become possessed by Lucifer or the love of their lives stabbed in the back, literally. Of course it wasn't difficult for them. They weren't hunters. They weren't Winchesters. 

Yes, this was hard. So was flying across the Atlantic Ocean to help Bobby. So was enduring torture in Hell. So was erasing Lisa's memories. So were those eight agonizing purified blood injections. 💉 Dean had faced more metaphorical demons than anyone. (Yes and more real demons too 😈) 

I LOVE YOU CASTIEL!!

His mind was like a crazed fan whose team was on the five yard line in the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl. It was leaping up and down and shouting its undying affection. But his mouth was paralyzed by all of his insecurities. His mouth thought of itself as his heart's last line of defense, and it seemed that it would serve till the very end.

After an unbearable silence, Castiel stated, "I don't want you to say it right now. Like I said before, I don't want it to be forced."

Dean hoped that his sigh of relief was not loud; not that Cass couldn't hear every sound in the universe. It wasn't that he didn't love Cass. It was just that the pressure was weighing on him. In its place came the fear of what his selfishness would do to Castiel.

"But…" Dean murmured.

Castiel gave him a warm smile. "Don't worry. You'll be ready in your own time. I have faith in you." 

Dean's eyes shone like stars in a moonless sky. They were mesmerizing patches of soft green grass in a barren brown field. Castiel loved them, just as he loved everything about Dean Winchester. More than anything, Castiel was thankful to Chuck that he could bring such joy to such a beautiful creature. 

Although Castiel had meant every word he'd said about not rushing Dean, he found that he could no longer fight his feelings. He loved Dean. He wanted to be able to express his love, just as all other beings did. While he knew the depths of Dean's love for him, Castiel wanted to feel it, just like anybody else would.

Gazing into Dean's beautiful eyes, Castiel decided the moment was just right for him to take a small chance. Castiel leaned in to Dean. To his delighted amazement, Dean Winchester met him halfway...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Meanwhile

"I was lying you know."

Head resting on his hand on the table, Sam ignored the demon woman. They were nearing the end of the cure. Erin was changing, though Sam was not certain it was for the better. The blackness in her eyes was now more of a hazy grey, and there was a vagueness in her state that troubled him. Her skin was pasty and dry. 

If Sam had given a damn about her, he would have been worried. If it wasn't for Dean, he would stab her in the chest and be done with it.. But he had no choice. Dean cared about her, and he had to honor that.

Well, he could not kill her. But Dean could not make him befriend her. He sure as hell did not have to listen to her.

"I was lying to you before, about Ruby," she repeated.

"Whatever you've got to say, I don't want to hear it," Sam snapped.

His disinterest did not deter Erin. "Ruby never said you were bad in bed. Actually, it was the opposite."

"You were lying to me then. Why should I believe you now?" Sam asked her. 

Ah! But she had caught his attention. She could work with that. At least he was listening. He was giving her the chance she had not earned. 

With sincerity in her voice, Erin replied, "Because you know how it feels to be warped into something that you're not."

Yes, he knew that feeling all too well. Under Ruby's influence, Sam had allowed his thirst for demon blood to grow out of control. Despite Dean's desperate attempts to save him, Sam became a full blown addict, choosing demon blood and Ruby's lies over Dean, Bobby and Castiel. He would spend the remainder of his days trying to atone for the sins he committed as a demon blood junkie. There had to be at least a degree of truth in what Erin was saying.

Unable to find the right words, Sam nodded. Sure, she was demon trash. Nobody would deny that, not even Dean. But, maybe Dean had been right. Maybe she hadn't always been a despicable creature, just as Sam had not always been an addict. After all, he too had said and done terrible things when he was not himself. Maybe he could cut her a little slack.

"Ruby really liked you, you know. Maybe even loved you," Erin continued.

"Ruby used me," Sam snapped. 

But he wasn't angry at Erin, not really. He was mad at himself for allowing himself to be manipulated by a demon. He was annoyed at himself for coming very close to falling into what could be the exact same trap. 

With a slight nod of her head, Erin shrugged. "Demons aren't Girl Scouts, Sammy. We have to lie and steal and seduce and fight to survive. But it doesn't mean we aren't capable of love. It may sound crazy, especially after the terrible things we did, but I really do care about your brother, and Ruby really cared about you." 

"If you care about Dean, why did you torture him?" Sam demanded. 

"I wanted revenge for all the pain he caused me. I dreamed of nothing else. I'm guessing you know the feeling." Sam's body tightened a little as he recalled his desire to watch Lucifer suffer worse than a being could handle. "But, I was devious. I wanted to get him good, so I stalked him. I wanted to know everything he hated. I wanted to know his deepest fears so I could use them against him. Then it turned around and bit me in the bum because after spending so much time observing him, and because of what we went through in Hell, I found out that I cared about him." Erin chuckled. "And, after reading every Chuck Shurley book I could get my hands on, I realized I'm a militant Destiel shipper."

That admission caught Sam by surprise, and he could not stifle a laugh. "Turns out, so am I." 

"They're so cute together!" Erin exclaimed, dreamily, and Sam could almost see the girl she had been. Hell, had their lives not crashed in the past, he could have seen himself liking her. 

"You know, the only person who can't seem to see that is Dean," Sam pointed out. 

Erin shook her head. "Oh, he sees it, but he's terrified. As mad as it makes me, I guess I understand why he's scared. It's just, well, after all the chances I sacrificed, I hate seeing anyone miss what could be their one shot."

"Speaking of which," Sam interjected. 

He picked up another syringe full of purified blood. Erin managed a weak smile as he aimed it over her neck. She squeaked a bit when she felt the poke, and her head slipped down some, but Sam didn't pay it much mind. It was a pretty normal response. In fact, it was better than the way Dean handled shots 💉. 

But, when he discarded the needle, Sam started to panic. Erin's skin was ghost white. When he touched her, she was burning with fever, just as Dean had been during his treatment. He slapped her face, but she did not stir.

"Erin? Erin??" Sam hollered. "DEAN!! CASS!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the world's biggest Sam/Ruby/Jared/Gen shipper!! 
> 
> Happy #spnfamilyday 2020!!
> 
> #alwayskeepfighting #youarenotalone


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